To the Friend I've Come to Love

DISCLAIMER: Do I have to do this every single time?

Author's Notes: Something is wrong with me. Seriously! This was supposed to be fluff! Fluff I tell you! BUT for some strange reason, it turned out to be ANGST. That is, obviously, not suppose to happen. I guess this is what happens to a person when you try to memorize the periodic table of elements on one sitting. . I really want to throw something. I mean, after making us do a cross-stitch, (which I still haven't finished... yes, I'm going to pass it late...-sighs-) they want us to memorize the periodic table of elements along with the atomic number, mass number...blah...blah... Btw, since I really don't want to write angst, I lessened the angst a lot. Yes, A LOT. So I am sorry if you don't find it angsty enough.

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Tezuka entered his room. He proceeded to his desk and deposited his bag. He was tired. There was a reunion last night and he had to go to work the next day. He wasn't staying in his flat today but rather in his old house. The house where he had lived for most of his years. It was instinct. After all, they had used his house as the location of the reunion. It was their ritual. Every time they have a reunion, one of them has to be the host and this year, it was Tezuka's turn. He wouldn't admit it out loud but he really enjoyed their little get-togethers.

He was about to take off his glasses when he noticed an innocent piece of yellow paper neatly folded on his desk. He ignored his previous action and moved to get the paper. He lazily undid the fold and his eyes opened in shock at the letter's contents.

Tezuka,

As you read this letter, I know that you will have many questions and I know as well that I have to provide the answers. I sincerely hope that this can answer all the questions that will form on your mind. You're probably wondering what is it I'm going to tell you. The truth is, I only need three words to express myself but i don't only want to express myself but I want to explain myself as well.

So then, here I go.

I love you.

Tezuka's eyebrows twitched.

Those words mean so much. They are words that can bring forth so much happiness but at the same time, it could also give much pain. Trying to pull the trigger by believing in foolish fantasies that through time, will still remain only as a fantasy. Reality. That's what people who delude themselves fear the most. I know so because I have always deluded myself that you feel the same for me.

You're probably wondering how, when, and why. To be honest, I forgot. You were stoic, emotionless, stern and strict. You have those traits which people may deem as undesirable. Despite that, I still found myself drawn to your charms. I admired you but slowly, that admiration turned into love. Back then, I was contented at just staring at you from afar. Time passed and things changed. As I drown deeper and deeper in your glory, my heart, mind and soul craved for more. I wanted to feel your body close to mine; your lips pressed against my own; your hands entwined with mine; and your eyes, filled with passion staring only at me. I wanted you to notice me. Apparently, you did but only as a friend, a teammate, and a rival in tennis.

Tezuka cringed. "Who is the writer of this letter?"

I'm sure you're wondering who I am right now. Don't worry. I'll get to that later.

Now, Tezuka's wondering:

"The writer...who is it? How can someone know me so well as to know how I think?"

Right, where was I? Yes, I remember now. I really wanted you to see me in a new light. I started to throw hints at you. Simple things, really. Like how I always stand close to you during practice, how you are always the subject of my pranks, how you are the one I always tease. But how can i help it? You were too dense for your own good. But I guess it was my fault too. After all, I was too scared of confessing what I feel. I was afraid of rejection and discrimination. Now, my greatest fear is regret. I know that you deserve to know the truth.

"Just where is this going? Practice? Does that mean that the writer is part of the Tennis club, the Boys' Tennis club nonetheless? So the writer's a guy?" Tezuka was confused now. "The writer mentioned pranks and teasing. Only Fuji did that. So the writer is Fuji? But it can't be Fuji. Fuji will never fall for anyone. He's just too good, too perfect for anyone." Or at least, that's what Tezuka thought.

So then, do you realize who I am? If you don't, I'll be quite disappointed.

Tezuka resisted the urge to smile. Now, he was certain that it was Fuji. He could almost see the mock pout on the tensai's face.

Tezuka, at this point, you probably know who I am. You're probably disgusted at me. After all, you are the perfect Tezuka-buchou. You worship rules. There's no way that you'll reciprocate. It's not possible that you'll agree to something that is this wrong. It's a common fact that the society doesn't accept two men in a romantic relationship. And even if we did get together, our families might go against us. You are perfect. Therefore, you deserve a perfect life. And now, that's what you have. I wouldn't dare be the flaw in your perfection.

Tezuka frowned. He couldn't believe that's what Fuji thought. Reading this stirred up feelings...foreign feelings in Tezuka's heart. It's something that he cannot discern.

Tezuka, this will be the last time you'll hear from me. I'm doing my best to forget what I feel. Goodbye and always remember, I love you.

Yours if you'll take me,

Fuji Syusuke

Tezuka stood perplexed, his feet rooted to the ground. A knock on his door waked him from his daze. It was his mother, Ayana.

"Kunimitsu, are you alright?" she asked. "You're crying." Ayana continued.

It was only then that he noticed the wetness in his cheeks. He didn't even know that he was crying until his mother told him.

For a second, the mother and son met each other's gazes. He then broke to a complete cry. For the first time, he let his guard down. After recovering from the shock of seeing her normally stoic son cry, Ayana took him in her arms. She rubbed circles on his back and whispered words of comfort.

Tezuka didn't know why he was crying. He doesn't have any reason to. For some strange and completely unknown reason to Tezuka, his tears were falling endlessly. For the first time, his emotionless mask broke. As far as he is concerned, he only feels the need to cry because of an empty feeling in his heart.

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Author's Notes: So, what do you think of my drabble? It's pretty long for a drabble. Anyways, please tell me what you think. I really want to improve this. Btw, this may be rewritten when I have the time so I really want to hear from you. I BADLY WANT TO IMPROVE THIS BECAUSE THIS SUCKS AND THERE ARE CHANCES THAT YOU'RE EYES MIGHT BLEED AFTER READING THIS SO I AM ASKING FOR YOUR COMMENTS, SUGGESTIONS, AND CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISMS.

TO ALL NOT MISTAKEN READERS, Not Mistaken will be posted on Monday. I have to rewrite it. . I was editing it when a blackout occurred. Thus, the file is gone. -cries- Because of that, I'll give a hint to a spoiler: "Why did nhowy-chan made Rivals II only for Ryoma whereas she made the Rivals I and Rivals III (currently the one I'm rewriting) for two persons?" I'll make a story for the one who can guess correctly.